


Feel you in my heart forever

by Shining_star_rae



Series: The Weasley Files [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ANYHOW, F/M, I hardly ever see anything written just about them, I love them to pieces and will protect them, It's a start, The Black family is equally interesting, and don't worry, because honestly dogs get into everything, but not to Cedrella, everyone's favorite dog animagus will eventually make an appearance in the series, jk, listen, long hair is a sign of a REAL man btw, the story of Septimus and Cedrella is hardly ever addressed and while this does them little justice, the weasley family is adorable, there are SO many possibilities with them, which is just a shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shining_star_rae/pseuds/Shining_star_rae
Summary: Cedrella came an hour late, having found it difficult to slip past her mother’s watchful eye. It had been Callidora of all people who had given her an opportunity. There had been an issue with her wedding dress, a tear or loose thread of some sort; as mother had ranted, Callidora had made vague, disinterested motions towards the door. Cedrella had felt so lucky to have her as an older sister in those final moments that she had left hundreds of flowers in her room as gratitude, who knew if she would ever see her again. For Charis, Cedrella had actually been able to give a hug and kiss to, it was enough. Magic would keep them all connected in some way or other.





	Feel you in my heart forever

****There were several facts about the world that every pure little witch and wizard were taught at a certain age. These were not every day normal facts, for if they were then every child-pure, muggle, muddied or mixed-would certainly know them. No, these were not the everyday fact, rather, they were the type that might turn the brain of a normal and rational thinking human being into mush, or even turn the most nonsensical gibbers of a mundane human into that of something sensible. Indeed, so unthinkable, so seemingly silly, so important and powerful were these facts that they could bring even the most powerful of men (and women) onto their knees. At least, this was what they were to good, pure little witches and wizards across the world.

Fact one was this: Magic was not a tool, to think so was to not comprehend what exactly a witch and wizard were.

Fact two followed in a similar fashion: Magic was not nice, to think so was to not comprehend how magic could be used nor why it acted it certain fashions.

Fact three was more serious: Magic demanded blood and nothing would stop it from collecting what it was owed. It only need time.

Fact four was nearly treasonous: All witches and wizards, no matter how they were born, were witches and wizards. Only Magic had a right to determine who was or wasn’t worthy of it.

Fact five was just as bad: Even the most devote witch or wizard could find themselves on the wrong end of magic and the magic would not show mercy.

Fact six was the absolute worst: The magic in a witch or wizards core did not stop growing until that witch or wizard had reached the mature age of thirty-one. Some people did not make it to the age of thirty-one.

Fact seven was better, but only slightly: A good little witch or wizard obeyed and remained loyal to the Lord or Lady overseeing their house.

Fact eight almost blew the minds of even pure little witches and wizards: A good little witch or wizard brushed their teeth at seven o’clock and went straight to bed. The magic practically demanded it.

Septimus Weasley, a member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Weasley was not a good, pure little wizard when he was child, and thus had not been taught these invaluable facts of the world. Except for fact eight, every child in the world did at least learn that one. Truly speaking, none of the Weasley line had been taught these facts for nearly two centuries, for none of them were really of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Weasley anymore, not since they had become magic-traitors. Though most would call them blood-traitors, which was practically the same thing.

Unlike the rest of his brood, Septimus had no real desire to remain out of magic’s favor, but neither did he desire to risk his life and do what was necessary to take back the magic that had once belonged to the Weasleys’ and to only the Weasley household. Due to this conundrum, Septimus spent nearly the whole of his years as a seventeen and eighteen year old trying to gain the favor of any Lord or Lady that would favor him a glance. The idea in his head was that if he could gain the favor of a Head of a House, then perhaps magic would begin to pay attention to him and see that he was worthy to reclaim what once would have been his birthright. But because he had not been taught the facts every pure little witch or wizard learnt at some point in their life, he did not know that the magic was paying attention to his family, in fact it had never really stopped. It longed to be reunited with its family, but alas, the day had not yet come when one was willing to do what was necessary.

Unfortunately for Septimus, though dashing in facial features and eloquent in speech, he was unable to gain the favor of any Lord or Lady, though many were doing far more than glancing at him at this point. But unlike many before him, he was able to gain favor in a prominent house, the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Due to his attendance to many gala’s, dinner parties, and other social events-all of which he had been invited to by friends in high places-Septimus Weasley, with his short, groomed red hair, dashing bravado, charming brown eyes, and unusual clothing had caught the eye of Cedrella Black.

As a child of the House of Black, Cedrella had been taught the eight facts of the world–though the eighth one had gone largely ignored by both her and her sisters, Callidora and Charis. Thus she knew that getting involved with the charmingly lanky magic-traitor would do her own magic absolutely no good, though she doubted any blood would be shed (it would be, later on, but magic had necessary reasons for it, it always did). And as two years older than the now nineteen year old, Cedrella’s father had been searching for a good family into which she could be married. Mostly, he had been eyeing the young American wizard, Alexander Fenwick, who had been eyeing the pretty little form of Charis for a good three years, despite her only just having graduated from Hogwarts a year before. It was rather amusing to Cedrella, who watched the whole affair from a distance with her dark grey eyes, or it was, up until the point Charis had started making doe-eyes at Alexander from a distance of her own.

It was at the moment when Cedrella had first seen the love-struck look on Charis’ face that a foreboding had covered her like a blanket until she had been forced to look away toward where her young cousin of four, Corban Yaxley, was dancing with the red headed man. Cedrella had seen him in the halls of Hogwarts, of course, but he had been a Gryffindor and she a Slytherin, two years older, which had left little opportunities to talk. None the less, she had watched him during several of the social get-togethers now, never intending to so much as say a word to him, but it seemed that day, that a new opportunity had arrived and left Cedrella no chance to ponder the foreboding feeling just moments before as Corban had lead the man over to where she had stood.

“Cousin Cedrella!” he had exclaimed, “This is my friend, Septimus Weasley. I like dancing with him, did you know that I’ve danced with him three other times at three different events?”

Callidora had come minutes later, after proper introductions had been made, and whisked Corban away to his mother, glaring at Septimus all the while. Cedrella could not help but stare at the soft smile Septimus had when saying a fond goodnight to the boy. They spent the rest of that night in each other’s company, talking about all manners of things, dancing together, sneakily stealing food off each other’s plates as they ate, and walking around the Zabini’s famous garden. At some point during the night, Cedrella had commented on how long hair was the mark of a man in wizard society, Septimus had gone on a rather long rant on how hair should be hair, which had left Cedrella breathless with laughter.

They parted on good terms.

From then on, Cedrella, the favored daughter of Arcturus II, did all she could to ensure Septimus was in her father’s good graces as well, because though he was not the head of the house, he was the brother of the head of the house. Septimus became a regular at events held by the Blacks, much to his surprise, much to the surprise and disgust of his six older siblings and parents, and much to the surprise and loathing of many pureblood families.

It was from this disgust and loathing that the Black family came to the consensus that though Septimus was delightfully different from the rest of his sort, he was nonetheless a magic traitor and they should not be so friendly with him lest they gain the wrath of magic for associating with him.

Charis was now dealing with a broken heart, Alexander Fenwick having decided that Julianna from the clan of Alton was more worthy of his pursuits, but she stood with her sister, rubbing her back as Cedrella shook with previously unknown emotions.

“I wouldn’t even bother listening to them,” Charis had said, flipping her curly brown hair over a shoulder. “They’ve forgotten fact number four, that all wizards and witches are wizards and witches because magic found them worthy. Sure, his family abandoned the magic that was theirs, but it obviously hasn’t abandoned them, magic isn’t going to punish us for associating with him.”

Chairs eyes her sister before adding, “Or for loving him.”

Cedrella cried the rest of the night, swearing she would not write to him or speak to him if it was Uncle Sirius’ wishes. Charis responded that ‘fine, she would do it for her’. Cedrella had never been so grateful for having her little sister.

Septimus Weasley was unaware of this situation until months later, having heard about two splendid balls that had taken place from a fellow Ministry worker. Though disappointed and angry to learn that another opportunity had fallen through, Septimus had felt his heart drop to his feet when he came to the realization that Cedrella had written to him practically every day, never even bothering to tell him that he had been removed from her social circle.

He wrote her a letter, confessing his hurt at her actions (as well as a few choice words about pureblood society on a whole). She responded in an equal manner, though a great deal more critical, hurt that he would dare presume she did not care about him or that he had any right acting so stuffy when it was he that had been trying to get into said circles.

Septimus did a great deal of thinking after that, so much so that his coworkers often told him to start shaping up if he wanted to continue on with them. He didn’t really, leading him to leave and start after a career in potions, which he’d always been rather fond of. A career in potions would almost certainly give better pay, enough that he could live comfortably on his own. Enough that he could live comfortably with a wife, maybe even some children. One day.

Cedrella loved reading his letter about his time under Fleamont Potter, a man ten years older than the now 24 year old Weasley. Most of the letter was composed of how potions at Hogwarts was nothing compared to the real thing, in fact, the potions classes were a good fifteen years behind the progress being made. Occasionally, Cedrella would read actual facts about Septimus himself, such as how he was attempting-poorly-to learn Hindi in order to give his teacher the opportunity to speak in his first language when with him. Cedrella felt her heart grow even more for the man.

Callidora eventually had to come in and order her to stop moping, after all, it would hardly look good for Cedrella to be moping during her older sister’s marriage ceremony to Robert Longbottom.  

Five months and three weeks after he was deemed a Master of Potions, Septimus wrote a letter-he wrote several letters, but most had seemed rather stiff, lacking a little of something Septimus couldn’t begin to fathom, something he need to be able to say in words, especially now-it was a rather short letter, consisting of a date, a time, a place, and a plea. He was not sure if he felt more terrified that she would come or more so that she would not. Either thought had his heart beating wildly and his eyes stinging.

Cedrella came an hour late, having found it difficult to slip past her mother’s watchful eye. It had been Callidora of all people who had given her an opportunity. There had been an issue with her wedding dress, a tear or loose thread of some sort; as mother had ranted, Callidora had made vague, disinterested motions towards the door. Cedrella had felt so lucky to have her as an older sister in those final moments that she had left hundreds of flowers in her room as gratitude, who knew if she would ever see her again. For Charis, Cedrella had actually been able to give a hug and kiss to, it was enough. Magic would keep them all connected in some way or other.

There had only been three separate times when the middle child of Arcturus Black II had felt a thrill in her bones such as she felt that day. The first she could remember it happening was at her aunt Hesper’s childhood home. The Gamp family was not overly strict when it came to the upbringing of their children, all eight of which were females at the time, and to pass the free time, many of the Gamp children, Aunt Hesper included, had learned to fly. Cedrella had been the only one of her sisters to take up Aunt Hesper’s offer to learn the art of flying on a broomstick.

She had gone a bit too high, been a bit too nervous. Her fingers had slipped and she’d fallen fast, wind rushing all around her. One of Aunt Hesper’s sisters had caught her in time, but Cedrella had refused to get back on, not necessarily because of the fear but because of the dangerous, dark thrill that had coursed through her. It hadn’t been magic.

The second time had occurred during her fourth year at Hogwarts, a year in which many members of her family had blocked out due to her unnatural curiosity of muggle-things. There had been a weekend when her curiosity had needed to be satisfied, so she took whatever muggle things had been available and secreted them away to her dorm. There she had read books upon books, for months on end, the thrill sinking into her bones every time she simply thought of what awaited her back on her bed. It had been exhilarating.

The third time had occurred with Septimus Weasley himself. They’d been dancing together one night, not unusual, but it had been outside this time, when he had still been part of her social circle. Perhaps the dim lighting was the cause of it, making her thoughts dizzy, or maybe it was the quartet, with their sensual, sultry tone, either way she had placed a palm on his cheek, closed her eyes, and brushed her nose against his. It was like a jolt of lightning had burst through her, lasting only the two seconds of her actions. Septimus had been surprised, delighted. The rest of the night they only spoke in whispers to each other for it seemed anything louder would break the spell that was binding their hearts as one.

This was understandably the fourth time she had felt the thrill. It sunk into her bones, past her blood, and wrapped right around her soul and heart. It drove her to sneak past the wards of her home, carrying shrunken baggage in her purse. It drove her to leave behind her sisters, her mother, father, and family. It drove her to ignore whatever it was magic might do to her for marrying into a traitorous family. Most of all, it drove her to dive into Septimus’ arms when she saw him in his finest tux, standing underneath a flower tunnel.

They were wed in the year of 1944, at the ages of 27 and 29, underneath star and candle light, gazing only into each other’s eyes, smiles bright like the sun. Only Fleamont and Euphemia Potter stood witness to their union, both sides of the family unknowing of the marriage until the next morning. The Blacks would disown Cedrella, much to the distress of Charis and their father. Callidora would roll her eyes, body lost among hundreds of flowers, muttering how she would have preferred a distressed Cedrella at her wedding than no Cedrella. The Weasleys’ would begrudgingly accept the newly wedded woman into their fold, never quite getting used to her sharp gaze and equally sharp tongue, something Septimus had always found delightful, but at the very least, they did accept her.

That night however, swaying together to the sound of leaves, the Potter’s dancing beside them, only the stars above them, Septimus would ask her if she could feel his undying love for her. She responded with a fond look, tucking a piece of his shoulder length hair behind his ear-

“My love, my darling, I shall feel you in my heart forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of two series that I want to do, one about the Weasley's and the other about the Blacks. Both have enough family members mentioned to make something of it and it'll be fun gaining a new perspective on characters (and my writing). I already have several other stories in the series planned, but nothing is written down or concrete-who knows what I'll end up writing, Fleamont was certainly a surprise popping up in this. I guess the Potters and their relationships with people also intrigues me? Ah well, we shall see how every thing goes.


End file.
